


A Serious Thing

by flowerdeluce



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: 5 Times, Alien Culture, Alien Food, Betazoid Culture, Chocolate, Eat Drink and Make Merry Exchange, F/M, Fluff, Food, Romantic Gestures, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerdeluce/pseuds/flowerdeluce
Summary: Deanna Troi has never met a chocolate she didn't like.Or five times Deanna enjoyed chocolate (or something chocolate adjacent.)
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	A Serious Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [libbi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/libbi/gifts).



> The title is [how Deanna describes chocolate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nu3qDNnPKSs) in _The Game_.

1\. Replicated chocolate

The last time the _Enterprise_ visited Starbase 74, the Bynars took her hostage and Will and the Captain were forced to initiate her auto-destruct sequence. That was a distant memory now, one of those painful ones Will had to laugh at to deal with, and he appreciated the opportunity to enjoy the starbase under happier circumstances.

The first thing Will did after passing through the airlock was ask a crewman where the best place was to get something to eat. It appeared Deanna had too, because of all the bars and lounges on Starbase 74, she’d walked into this one.

If it were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them. Deanna’s table faced a viewport overlooking the docking bay, a handful of starships sitting in various states of repair within its hold, the _Enterprise_ the largest by far. All that could be seen of Deanna was the back of her head, her dark curls hanging over her shoulders and brushing the back of her chair. The lounge was bustling with people too, and hers was one head among many. But Will’s eyes found her immediately.

Back before he’d even heard the word _Imzadi_ , Will called it magnetism, what he felt for her. Not the alluring kind. Electromagnetism. All Deanna had to do was pass him and he’d find himself turning to her, unable to look away, needing to fight the urge to rush to her side.

 _Wouldn’t that make us opposites?_ Deanna had asked the first time he used that term, walking her fingertips across Will’s temple while they soaked up the sunshine on the banks of Lake Cataria. Apparently, “Opposites attract” wasn’t a known phrase on Betazed. She’d found it charming, though.

A waiter approached Deanna as Will made his way through the tables towards her. She’d know he was there.

“I’d like something that isn’t at all nutritionally balanced, that tastes delicious,” Deanna said. “Surprise me.”

The waiter smiled and gave her a graceful half-bow.

“That sounds like another way of ordering chocolate without saying chocolate,” Will said, taking the seat beside her.

“I want to try something new.” She glanced at him for a moment, her dark eyes drawing him in with that magnetism again, then turned back to the viewport. “I know the _Enterprise_ ’s menu inside out.”

“They have a different menu here?” Will asked. Galaxy-class starships had the best replicator technology around. If anything, there'd be less of a selection available here, wouldn’t there?

“Many. Think of all the crews that pass through here. They’ll want to keep them happy.”

The docking bay was reflected in Deanna’s eyes. It was a rare sight, something besides stars, the dazzling prism of warp’s streaked light, or a planet turning beneath their orbit. It was always a novelty to see the _Enterprise_ from another place. Her smooth curves and elegant saucer section still held as much spectacle for Will as they did the first time he saw her from the _USS Hood_. At this moment however, he only looked at Deanna. Like with the _Enterprise_ , he’d never felt anything less than wonder in Deanna’s presence, and she’d always be as beautiful as the first time he saw her.

Over Deanna’s shoulder, Will spotted the waiter approaching. He was carrying a tray holding a large chocolate sundae in a tall glass—just like the ones on the _Enterprise_. He felt Deanna catch his realisation, her mind pulling his amusement into hers, and her shoulders sank.

“A chocolate sundae,” the waiter said, as if Deanna wouldn’t know exactly what it was. He placed it down in front of her and laid a long-handled spoon beside it.

Will pursed his lips to stop a laugh breaking through.

“Oh!” Deanna exclaimed in perfectly believable surprise. “That’s lovely, thank you.”

The waiter turned to Will. “Can I get anything for you, sir?”

“No, thanks. I’m still deciding.”

Deanna’s smile fell once the waiter left, and she turned to Will with a defeated sigh. Not defeated enough that she didn’t immediately pick up the spoon and start eating, though.

“You know you can send it back, right?” Will pressed. “It won’t bother them.”

Swallowing her first spoonful, Deanna’s eyes didn’t leave the pile of cream and fudge before her for a moment. “Absolutely not. I asked for a surprise, didn’t I?” She dragged the spoon through the thick sauce, scooping up a few chocolate chips with it. “This was surprising.”

Will leaned in. “Perhaps the surprise could be that you give that to me and order something else?”

Sliding the sundae a few inches closer to herself, laying her arm between it and Will on the table, she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. I’ve already started. Besides, you don’t like fudge.”

2\. Betazed chocolate

“Oh, how beautiful!” Deanna exclaimed, awed by the display before her and the artistry that must’ve gone into it.

L’graxsa Chocolatiers had chosen not to encase their creations behind glass, trusting visitors to look, not touch. Deanna had behaved herself so far, but the temptation to reach out and touch chocolates crafted to look like clustered gemstones was almost too much. They even reflected light, hundreds of iridescent prisms glistening from their textured surface beneath lights showcasing their true splendour.

“Now _those_ aren’t chocolate,” Will said, squinting at them. He’d said that about almost every display since they’d arrived. Every one had indeed been chocolate, but that hadn’t stopped him.

Deanna read the Betazoid script beneath the display aloud for him. “An uttaberry mouse centre enrobed in ruby white chocolate, hand-finished with crystallised sugar.” And goodness, didn’t that sound delicious?

Will wrinkled his nose. “Too sweet for me.”

Whereas Will’s pessimism would irk Deanna usually, it offered some needed balance to the warm pool of empathic satisfaction she’d floated in since walking into the chocolatiers. Every mind around her was fixed on chocolate. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. It felt dangerously easy to get swallowed by it, to fill her cloth basket with box upon box of saccharine delights from Betazed and beyond. Will’s neutrality was an anchor in a vast, chocolatey sea.

The store was bustling with customers, each squeezing through the honeycomb of tables piled high with truffles, selection boxes, bars, and tasting stations. Along the back wall, rich scents drifted from a fountain of molten chocolate guests were invited to dip fruit into, infusing with the myriad of other sweet smells under L’graxsa’s roof.

A server waved a tray of rectangular chocolates under Will’s nose, introducing yet another scent. “Would sir like to try one of our signature spiced truffles today?”

Will politely declined, so Deanna nudged his side. “Go on. They won’t be _that_ spicy.”

Raising an eyebrow as if to say, _is that a challenge?_ Will plucked one of the truffles from the tray and took a small, curious bite. Almost instantly, a flare of pleasure burst from Will’s mind into Deanna’s. It was a unique sensation linked only with food, and Deanna loved sensing it. She always knew when someone was enjoying their favourite dish or encountering their new favourite flavour for the first time. It was there in her mind like a struck match. Sometimes, a person’s emotional response to a flavour was so strong she could almost taste it herself. A peppery sensation flickered across her tongue, disappearing as quickly as it arrived.

Will nodded. “Very nice, thank you.”

The server smiled, no doubt enjoying Will’s reaction also, even if his words were a poor reflection of his true feelings.

“Do have another, if you’d like”, the server said.

As Will reached for the tray, Deanna spotted a display of Ktarian chocolates a few tables away. She darted through the crowd and approached the edge of the table, her mouth falling open.

The display was extravagant. Graduated sections draped in red silk housed silver trays of chocolates in varying shapes and sizes. Bowls of truffles wrapped in individual coloured foils were accompanied by cut flowers in vases, the blossoms bright and sweet-smelling. According to the labels, the truffles were flavoured with oils extracted from the petals of those species, all imported from Ktaris.

At the top of the display, in pride of place, the glossy orb of a Ktarian puff looked down upon the lesser delicacies below. It contained seventeen varieties of chocolate, and Deanna stared up at it in awe.

“You’re just on cloud nine, aren’t you?” Will said, breaking Deanna’s attention.

She linked her fingers with his, taking in the floral chocolates again. She couldn’t justify leaving with the puff, but the truffles on the other hand . . . “We have to get some of these,” she said.

“ _You_ have to get some of these,” Will corrected. “I’m sticking with those spiced ones.”

*

L’graxsa packaged Deanna’s Osfia-flower truffles in a paper box, laying a single Osfia stem across the top before fastening a ribbon around them both.

As soon as they left, Deanna told Will that she would make the truffles last as long as she could. Saying it aloud and having someone else hear it might help her hold herself accountable to that promise. However, not two minutes later, she perched herself upon a garden wall and untied the ribbon, unable to resist any longer.

While she took a bite of the first one, eyes falling closed at its delicate flavour, Will took the Osfia blossom and slid it into her loose hair. She sensed his contentment as he watched her, his joy at seeing her satisfied. It was a wonderful feeling. Her _Imzadi_ never had to say a word for her to know that he loved her.

How Will resisted opening his truffles before they were due back on board the _Enterprise_ , Deanna didn’t know. Enjoying chocolates beneath her home planet’s sun was something she hadn’t done for a long time. She’d make the most of it while she could, and if that meant rushing back into L’graxsa for another box before they returned, then so be it.

3\. Not chocolate (but close)

The Seric homeworld was the latest planet to join the Federation. It wouldn’t be official until tomorrow, but the Sericans invited the _Enterprise_ bridge crew to join their celebrations regardless. In particular, they’d invited them to a feast which they promised would be enjoyable for any species they had aboard.

Usually, the _Enterprise_ hosted such feasts. Honoured delegates mingled with the crew in Ten Forward, tasting the galaxy of delights the replicator conjured while their newly unified planet turned slowly through the viewport. On this occasion, Picard appeared more than happy to reverse that tradition. He’d said something about the carpets getting ruined, which only made sense to Will when he remembered the Serican anatomy.

Sericans were like Earth’s plants in that they subsisted on water and sunlight. They imbibed through their skin, a porous membrane that was slick and glossy, that they didn’t cover with clothing. They were a beautiful people, Will thought. The Sericans were a multitude of colours—mostly green, yellow, and purple in various shades—and while they had a humanoid shape, they moved more gracefully, almost fluttering from place to place like petals caught in a breeze. But Picard had a point, they did drip.

“I wonder what they’ll serve at this feast,” Deanna said in the turbolift, almost to herself. They were on their way to meet the captain and Worf in transporter room three, where they’d all beam down to Seric together.

Before Will could speak, Data piped up from over his shoulder, ever eager to answer a question. “Other than water, there is a high probability they will serve their local flora. There are many edible plant species on the planet that might be combined into something resembling a salad. There are also fruit-bearing trees, which could make—”

“A fruit salad?” Will cut in, resulting in a puzzled look from Data. “I think I need something more substantial.” He mimed rubbing his stomach and Deanna smiled at him.

“Data?” she asked. “Do you know for sure that’s what they’ll serve us, or are you making an educated guess?”

Data looked surprised, maybe even a little insulted, though he’d claim he was incapable of either of those responses if Will mentioned it. “You said you wondered what they would serve, Counsellor. I believe I was wondering also.”

The turbolift’s doors parted, opening onto the corridor leading to the transporter room. Shortly, they’d wonder no more.

*

Ambassador Viridi had done a good job of acclimatising their visitors to the Serican culture and taken great care to ensure they were comfortable.

Their handshaking ritual had been interesting to say the least. Will would never forget being gifted a towellike square of fabric beforehand, his initials beautifully embroidered upon each corner; an item he’d carry with him throughout a visit where he’d shake wet hand after wet hand. He was sure he’d never forget their reactions to the “taste” of his skin either, which they absorbed immediately, and how they associated it with different yet accurate aspects of his personality.

When it was finally time for the grand feast, Viridi led them into a courtyard at the rear of the immaculately clean embassy.

“We had these vessels made specially, so that you may experience a Serican meal.” Viridi spoke of them with such pride it even made it through the universal translator. The vessels were stained-glass beakers of different colours containing what looked like water, each suspended above a small flame, and displayed on plinths about shoulder-height. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Viridi approached one of the vessels and held a hand above it. Steam slowly rose from inside the glass, drifting up towards Viridi’s palm.

“Each of these vessels contains a popular Serican essence. I believe you would call them ‘flavours’. They are made via a process of distillation. These samples—” Viridi gestured to them, “—are much stronger than those we usually enjoy in our steam rooms. We have adapted the process so that you may inhale the flavour without getting wet. Please, do try them.”

Worf was the first to step forward to one of the plinths. He needed to bend quite far to get his face close to the heated beaker, but when he did, he jumped back in surprise, snarling. “It’s too strong.”

The captain followed Worf’s lead, leaning into the scented steam. “Indeed,” he said, blinking and stepping back, though less abruptly than Worf had. He coughed lightly into the crook of his elbow. “Menthol.”

“I believe you are supposed to taste the steam rather than smell it, Captain,” Data said, though he didn’t approach the plinth; this was another ritual in which he couldn’t participate thanks to his inorganic nature. “Perhaps the experience would be more pleasant if you were to inhale the vapours through an open mouth.”

Worf put out his arm, stopping Picard from stepping closer again. He clenched his fist and bent with as much gravity as one about to test their monarch’s food for suspected poison. He breathed in deep, mouth open so wide it reminded Will of the Klingon Death Ritual, only a much more silent version.

A rare smile flashed across his face. “A wonderful essence,” he said to Viridi, surprised. “You must try it this way, Captain.”

Suppressing his disappointment that there wasn’t any physical food available, Will decided to give one of the essences a try. Under the watchful eye of Viridi, he opened his mouth above one of the beakers and inhaled.

It was . . . different. The steam washed over his chin and lips, leaving them moist. He couldn’t put his finger on what it reminded him of exactly, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. It was like the aftertaste of food, like he’d chewed something once then spat it out, none of the satisfaction of swallowing the morsel and enjoying its nuance of flavour.

“You may enjoy this one, Commander Riker,” Viridi said, gesturing towards the vessel on the end of the row while Will dried his beard with the monogrammed towel.

“I’ll try it. Thank you.”

He did enjoy it more than the last—earthy, reminiscent of Earth truffles, and not the chocolate kind—though the subsequent dissatisfaction remained: he was hungry and wanted to eat something, not just smell it. His stomach rumbled. Politely, he told the ambassador that he found it very pleasant and inhaled another lungful of the richly flavoured steam.

Something pressed against the back of Will’s skull then, something warm and distinctly Deanna. Sometimes, when she experienced strong emotion, Will could sense it like a forcefield passing through him. When she was frightened, that feeling left his hair standing on end, had him bristling and shuddering. Now, it was like diving into warm water, like her arms had drawn around his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. He turned towards where she was standing and couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

Deanna was hunched over one of the vessels, her hair hanging down around it, dangerously close to the flame. The steam swirled about her face, crawling up over her shoulders and out through the gaps between her curls as she breathed deep, over and over, pleasure radiating from her.

Will approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think I need to see what all the fuss is about.”

“It’s amazing, Will,” she breathed, still not lifting her head. “It’s absolutely delicious.” When she finally looked up at him, her face was soaked, droplets running down her cheeks and dripping from her chin onto her uniform.

A stray curl clung to her wet jaw. Will brushed it aside. While it was endearing to see her like this, her glazed, overly satisfied expression left Will hungry in a different way. He wrapped his hand around hers, closing her fingers tighter around her towel, encouraging her to make herself more presentable.

“So, are you going to let me have a sniff,” he asked, “or have you claimed this one all for yourself?”

Deanna stepped back apologetically, dabbing the towel to her face. “Yes. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Ambassador Viridi, who had been speaking with Data, slid to Deanna’s side. “You were drawn to one of our rarest essences, Counsellor Troi.” As Will inhaled the intoxicatingly sweet yet rich scent, Viridi went on. “This is distilled from a fruit native to our planet that is particularly hard to cultivate and, if ingested in high amounts, can cause discolouration of our membrane. Despite those effects, its popularity is such that the fruit almost went extinct. Now it is reserved for special occasions and, even then, is only enjoyed sparingly.”

“So it’s like a special treat?” Will asked, unable to keep the smile from his face. “A special treat that’s not particularly good for you?”

“Yes,” Viridi said, unaware of the point Will was making. “It could be described so.”

Will flashed Deanna a smile. “Then no wonder Counsellor Troi enjoyed it.”

Deanna appeared entirely unaffected by Will’s jibe, but her mind positively flared at him. “Commander Riker is referring to an Earth confection that has similar properties,” she told Viridi. “I enjoy it very much. Perhaps we could distil some for you using our replicators.”

“That would be wonderful,” Viridi said with a nod. “We will need to check the potency before indulging.”

“Of course.”

As Viridi led Deanna to the next vessel, Deanna stuck out her tongue at Will over her shoulder.

4\. Unexpected chocolate

Deanna tossed her communicator onto her bed and reached for the zipper of her uniform before the doors to her quarters had even closed properly. She was officially off-duty, and absolutely nothing was going to change that. She needed rest, silence, and not one enraged diplomat’s emotional state grating at her mind, thank you very much.

Rubbing her temples, she asked the computer to make her a hot chocolate, her voice hoarse from the amount of talking she’d done in the last twenty-four hours: negotiating, explaining, translating, trying to keep the opposing sides of warring parties negotiating peace (or attempting to) from leaping over the observation lounge’s table and engaging in hand-to-hand combat.

A warm drink would soothe her frayed nerves. A sweet one would soothe her soul.

“Please repeat,” the computer said.

Deanna cleared her throat and went to try again when her communicator’s chitter cut her off. Before she heard who had made contact through its silver-gold mechanism, she briefly considered smoothing it with a pillow.

“Counsellor?” Will’s voice.

She touched a tired fingertip to where Will’s voice emanated. “Yes, Commander?” She opted to return his title in greeting in case he was still in company. There was every chance he’d been kept longer at the meeting.

“I’m sending a delivery to your quarters,” he said, and she could tell he was smiling. If she wasn’t trying to avoid the mental interference coming from the rest of the ship, she’d probably feel that mischievous streak of his drifting through the decks.

“I’m in bed, Will,” she said with a sigh, wishing that were true. “And I’m in no fit state to receive anyone.”

“You don’t have to move from that spot.”

Particles glittered beside her on her nightstand, coalescing into an ornate box of chocolates; her favourite selection from the replicator’s menu, but one she rarely allowed herself to indulge in. Seemed Will was suggesting she enjoy herself after a long, long period of doing the exact opposite.

“Should you really be wasting the ship’s energy transporting things directly to my quarters?” It was against the rules, not that anyone ever really checked. But still.

The turbolift’s low drone joined Will’s voice on the channel. “I have this little thing called being First Officer to help with that.”

Deanna smiled. She slid the box’s lid aside—an engraved mahogany with elegant script on its underside listing the contents—and plucked a plump caramel from its papery casing. “You shouldn’t do that.” She didn’t want him getting into trouble for her sake.

“I could always take it away if—”

“No! No, I’m very grateful, thank you.” She bit into the chocolate, breaking the runny caramel centre free from its flaky shell, a palm poised beneath her chin to catch any runaway pieces.

That smile was back in Will’s voice, lifting it. “I’ll leave you to it, then. And well done today. I don’t think I’d have kept it together with a Leflian trader breathing down my neck for three consecutive shifts.”

Deanna selected another chocolate and held it between finger and thumb. “He wasn’t so bad,” she said, pausing to take a bite of the orange cream dusted with edible gold. “His heart was in the right place.” She wasn’t sure she’d have said that an hour ago.

“Get some rest. I suspect we’ve another few days of this before they calm down and behave like adults.” Following the familiar swish of the turbolift doors, Will’s tone changed. “Goodnight, Counsellor,” he said, voice clipped; he was in company again.

“Goodnight, Commander.”

She’d have one more. Just one more. Then, she’d rest.

Six chocolates later, Deanna rested.

5\. Real chocolate

Will felt guilty about taking shore leave without his wife at his side. Even captains couldn’t arrange to take theirs at the same time as their spouse every time—one of the many trials of being a couple aboard a Federation starship. Deanna always told him to make the most of his rare downtime, pointed a playful finger at him, and told him she’d know if he didn’t.

He’d spent so much of his week on Earth thinking and talking about Deanna that, in the end, it didn’t feel like he’d been without her at all. Not that he’d pined himself miserable or anything. He’d seen great sights, ambled through natural land that wasn’t created in a holodeck—complete with genuine insect bites—and eaten food made by the loving hands of people who knew how to combine and cook ingredients without the aid of technology.

Despite those good times, walking back to their quarters on the _Titan_ was a thrill, because each step he took was a step closer to Deanna.

“Will,” she said, throwing her arms wide. She was perched on the end of their bed, so he came and sat beside her, drawing her into his chest as he inhaled her scent. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You had a good time,” she said. Her fingers traced his jaw as she met his gaze, drinking him in with those inky black eyes he’d never not want to drown in. “You have lots of stories to tell me.”

“I do, but first . . .” He reached into the rucksack he’d brought aboard with him, not wanting to wait for it to be separately transported, decontaminated, then cleared for return to his quarters. “I got you something.”

Deanna’s eyes widened as he pressed the bar of chocolate into her waiting hands. She turned it over, stroking a fingertip along its paper sleeve. “Real chocolate?”

“About as real as it gets. They really talk your ear off about the history of this stuff. Apparently, they had to genetically modify the beans in the early twenty-second century because they couldn’t keep up with demand.”

“I think I remember reading about that,” Deanna said, sliding a finger under the sleeve’s seal and breaking it open.

“But this is from the only remaining plantation that refused to do that,” Will continued. “They said it would impair the flavour.”

“Really?” Deanna’s hand paused, like the chocolate was almost too sacred for her to taste or even touch, then continued peeling back the gold foil.

“It’s extra dark,” Will said. “They suggested only having a half piece at a time. If you’re not used to the strength of the genuine article, it can be overwhelming.”

Deanna broke a square off the end of the dark brown block. “I’m willing to take the risk,” she said with a smile.

She pressed the square to her tongue and closed her eyes slowly, losing herself in the flavour before humming in satisfaction. Will would never tire of seeing her like this.

“Will, it’s . . .” Her tongue slid along her lower lip before she flopped back onto silk sheets, throwing her arms out at her sides. “It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s . . .” Sitting up, she hurriedly broke another piece off with a crack, placed it on her tongue, then collapsed onto the bed again. “Oh, it’s divine!”

“I’m starting to get jealous,” Will teased. “I’m not sure who you’re happier to see, me or the chocolate.”

Deanna squirmed. “Don’t make me choose!”

Smiling, Will pushed the bar aside and kissed her.


End file.
